To Catch A Thief-taker
by bluekrishna
Summary: Written for Osage's January 'Blind-Date' Competition in the Aria's Afterlife Forum. ExtranetDates: How he'd ranted at his friend for signing him up for such idiocy. But when Spectre Jondum Bau meets a mysterious human woman who catches him off guard with her wily, wily ways, will he succumb? Will he notice that she just may be the thief he's been chasing for months? Let's find out!


"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Relax. It's just a harmless bit of fun. You have been working far too hard lately," crooned the dual-toned voice of his fellow Spectre in his ear.

"I'm close. I can feel it. My quarry is just out of reach and you want me to go on a-a _date_?"

"You were the one complaining about not having any companionship outside of the job-"

"Yes, but-"

"-and, seriously, the job you've been on has become a borderline obsession. It's disturbing." His fellow Spectre sighed. "You need to take a breather. Meet a nice salarian girl at a bar, buy her a few drinks, cut loose and have a good time. Who knows, maybe you and she will end up relieving some _tension_."

He sighed, as well. "That's not how it works with us. It's all contracts and legalities and . . . _arrangements."_

"Bau, if I didn't think this would be good for you, I never would have hacked your omnitool and signed you up for this ExtranetDate thing."

"And_ thanks_ for that, by the way," said Jondum, sourness trickling from his words.

His sarcasm went ignored as the turian on the other end of his comms continued, "And the fact that you got a response within the first few days is a good indication that there's women out there who find lonely salarian men appealing."

The dreaded encounter with some stranger lay only feet away. He could see the neon sign above the bar blinking in garish orange. Swallowing back a surge of panic, he mumbled, "I don't think I can do this."

"Spirits, don't be a cloaca. Just get in there already. Even if it's a bust nookie-wise, even if she's a bore, at least you'll have taken a break. Had a few drinks. Maybe a few laughs. Mission accomplished." The turian's voice took on a conciliatory air. "Trust me, Bau. Have I ever let you down?"

"No, never." Bau took a deep, steadying breath.

"Listen, I gotta go take care of this thing. Babysitting a prospect and all. I hope Eden Prime is as pretty as they say. Anyway, I want details after. Got it?"

"Fine." The salarian prepared to cut the channel to his friend, who must be just pulling away from the docks. Pausing, he then said, with sincerity, "Thanks, Nihlus."

"Any time." A hollow click closed the link.

Jondum Bau, Spectre, placed a hand on the door's green lock. He pulled his shoulders back, lifting his head high to affect an air of confidence as he stepped into the open portal. "Here goes nothing."

* * *

"SlyKitsune23?" The pinging of his omnitool led him to a booth where a lone human woman sat. His already sinking guts sunk even lower as she tilted her hooded head toward him and nodded. Damn E-Dates for their 'no profile pics' rule.

"SmexxySalarianStud?" she replied, beckoning him to take the seat opposite.

Mortified, Bau hid the wince at the name Nihlus had so thoughtfully given him. "Um, yeah . . .."

Sliding into the booth, he looked around the rest of the bar, marking exits and potential threats. He glanced at his companion many times as the silence stretched on and on. She caught him looking and smiled. "Something wrong?"

He flushed. "No, I just-I thought . . . that you were salarian."

"Oh? And whatever gave you that idea?" Her infectious smile reached out to him from under her hood.

The Spectre felt his own lips twitch in response. "Your profile suggested a certain . . . calculation. Plus your username."

"What about my username sounds salarian?" she said, with an engaging wave of the hand not holding a drink.

That reminded him. Using the menu built into the booth, he opened a tab and ordered drinks for them both. "Kitsune. It's almost a salarian word. 'K't', which means 'flower', and 'soone', which means 'gold'."

"Fascinating. 'Kit-soo-nay' has a meaning in my native language as well." Again, that smile. It never seemed to leave her face, yet startled him whenever it appeared. "It means 'fox.'"

He wondered what the rest of her face looked like and found himself picturing huge jewel-like eyes in those shadows. Ridiculous. _She's human. Her eyes will be small and close together, pupils too small, irises too dark._ Yet he still felt intrigue curl around his spine. "What is a fox?"

"Sometimes, it's an animal. It lives on Earth. It's known for its cunning." She laughed and emptied her glass. Their fresh drinks arrived and she bent her head in gracious thanks as she took hers. "But sometimes, it can mean, 'pretty lady.'"

Caught up in the musical rhythm of her voice, he blinked, shaking himself free. "Well, just to clear the air, I should tell you that I'm not a xenophile."

"Oh, my. That's blunt. I'm not salarian, so you're not interested?" She hummed, amused, and settled further back in her seat. "Were you looking for a breeding contract? Is that why you joined E-Dates?"

"Um, no. I mean, not really." Flustered, he took a deep draw from his drink.

"So, SmexxySalarianStud, why did you?"

Now, he cringed away from that awful appellation. "A friend signed me up. He said it would be good for me to get out of the office."

"Company man, are we?" she teased, "And I'm guessing your friend is the one that gifted you with that username. Some friend."

"When he told me, I was pretty . . .." He fished for a word.

"Annoyed? Exasperated?" she supplied.

Grateful, he shot her a brief smile. "Yeah, all those and more. I thought it another of his pranks. Then, when I got pinged with a response, well . . . I was surprised."

"And then surprised again, when there sat before you not a blushing salarian beauty-cum-bride, but a human girl with a salarian-sounding username." Her smile deepened, creating dimples in her pale cheeks. It charmed another answering smile from him. Then, the she put her hand over his and said, with graven sincerity, "You have my utmost sympathy. The good intentions of friends can be a terrifying burden."

Bau choked out a startled laugh, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Embarrassment flooded him, mixed with surprise at his body's strange reaction.

"You don't do that often, do you? Laugh, I mean."

He relaxed into the comfortable booth's backing and sighed. "I guess not."

"Hard to find things to laugh about sometimes." Her smile took on a pensive cast and she turned her head to look out at the other people in the bar. A sorrow seemed to settle over her.

After a long while, he broke the silence. "And what about you? Why did you join E-Dates?"

She turned that smile on him again, dispelling the sadness. He felt surprise at a spark of warmth in his chest cavity. "I . . . just lost somebody. I thought this would help me get over it."

He wanted to put his hand over hers, but pulled back at the last second, unsure of boundaries. "My condolences. Was he salarian?"

She coughed and sputtered some of her drink, before shooting him a wide and incredulous grin. "Oh, SmexxySalarianStud, are you asking me if I'm a _fetishist?_"

He backpedaled, holding his hands up. "No, I-I just assumed-because you had to know that I'm a-"

"No, he wasn't. He was human." She took in his distress with pursed lips. "No worries, SmexxySalarianStud, it's a reasonable assumption. After all, why would a human woman want to go on a blind date with a salarian man if she didn't have perversions in mind?"

Reassured by her humor-filled tone, he let himself relax once more. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"I keep looking for a way to shorten it, but 'Salarian' sounds too impersonal, 'Smexxy' sounds _too _personal and 'Stud', well . . ." She gave him the once-over, a lingering head-to-toe examination that left him curiously flushed in anticipation. For what, he hadn't a clue. Smiling that enigmatic smile, she continued, "I haven't made up my mind yet on that score."

His heart thudded, just once. Bau tossed back the last of his booze and ordered another. "You could just call me by my name."

"But that would be breaking the 'anonymity' clause in our first date rules. The gods of E-Dates would be furious." She leaned forward over the table. "I didn't figure you for a rulebreaker, Stud. Everything in your profile made you out to be a straight shooter."

"Just because I've never broken the rules, doesn't mean I haven't thought about it." The drink must be making him reckless. He looked down into his glass in mild reproach. Ordering another round, he looked at his intriguing new lady friend askance, curiosity getting the better of him. "So, if not for the whole 'salarian' thing, then why did you respond to my profile?"

"Well, it presented a conundrum. As I was looking through the site's massive database, sifting through the tiresome and endless landscape of requests for carnal satisfaction, I happened upon one that piqued my interest. Here we have a man," she said, gesturing toward him, "a salarian male, normal interests, normal tastes. Extremely intelligent, even for a salarian. Just his being there, on a site reputed to host the galaxy's worst, as far as extreme sexual deviancy goes, is an anomaly. That coupled with a username that begged a certain . . . irony, gave me pause."

His mouth, which had gone dry just listening to the story roll out from between her painted lips in that husky drawl, opened to say, "Surely, there were other salarian males on there."

She laughed. "There were. With usernames like 'TwinkBitchSalarian' or 'SallyNeedsAKroganDaddy'. Needless to say, I steered clear."

Bau shuddered. "Scary."

"Indeed. So, you see, you were a puzzle. I like puzzles." Her face tilted towards him and he could just make out the curve of her cheeks under luminous eyes. They twinkled at him in merriment.

"I don't think of myself as much of a puzzle, I'm just-" _lonely,_ he finished, silently. Loneliness, a condition his race did not usually succumb to. That made him a sort of a deviant, as well, that he craved companionship on an intimate level. Even just this, talking with someone of the opposite sex, soothed that ache. _Nihlus was right._ He snorted a laugh at that.

The woman across from him asked, "What's so funny?"

"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking . . ." He looked back at her and saw a woman interested in what he had to say. Her race didn't matter. "This is nice. There's no reason why we can't enjoy ourselves, previous expectations aside."

"True enough. Now that the awkward introduction phase is over, what shall we talk about?"

He thought for a moment. Past the buzz of the alcohol, his brain supplied an answer. "I suppose we should get to know one another. That's the next logical step, isn't it?"

"Are you saying you want to get to know me?" A strange sort of invitation curled around her words, nothing overt, just a hint. A tease. "Fire away, Stud."

Suddenly, he did want to know her. He looked over her person to see if he could spot any clues to the real her and felt a thrill when nothing came to light. Not a single thing to give away her secrets. Excitement tickled him. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an art-dealer." Smooth and natural. He had no reason to doubt her. She rested her chin on one knuckle. "I locate rare pieces for my museum to procure for their exhibits. I'm on the Citadel right now because a painting, a lost Degas, has turned up in the care of some delegates from Thessia. And you? What do you do?"

"I'm a . . .." he started, but didn't finish for fear of his profession's reputation scaring her off, and possibly ending this fascinating encounter early.

"No, let me guess." Humming, she appeared to ponder. Then, she made a short exclamation, "Ah! Law enforcement."

Startled, he blinked. "How did you know?"

"Well, I saw the way you cased the bar when you strolled in. Checking to see who was armed and so on. At first, I thought, 'contract killer' or 'merc', but then I saw you were much too nice a guy for that. So, then, I thought, 'cop.'"

Something in what she said jangled an alarm in the back of his mind, but four or five drinks in, he barely felt it. He bought another round and said, with a laugh, "Quite a deduction. Are you sure you're not the cop?"

"Oh, no. I'm not suited for that line of work at all. Too much work and not enough reward. Not what's due, anyway."

"The work's not so bad. It is rewarding, in its own way."

"I have the utmost respect for the law and those who enforce it." Odd the way she seemed to leave off some crucial addendum.

"But?" he prompted. Bau himself leaned over the table, resting his chin in one palm. This close, he could smell some sort of fragrance. Some woodsy perfume she must have put on for their date. Heat danced over his skin as he thought of her dabbing it on just for him. As though this wasn't their first meeting and they knew each other by name.

"Hm?" The twinkle of her eyes in the shadows of her cowl flicked away from him. Those plump lips stretched into a sly grin. Then, she stood, pulling him along with her by his forearm. "Oh! Let's go for a walk along the Presidium. It's the night cycle there. We can pretend to be young lovers in the moonlight."

He stumbled into step at her side. "Yes. Pretend."

As they walked along the streets of Silversun Strip, Bau couldn't help but feel the heady . . . _nearness_ of the woman on his arm. Moreso, when she elected to put her head on his shoulder, murmuring, "You're very tall. For a salarian."

"First time anyone's ever accused me of that. I work around a lot of turians and krogan. Maybe you're just short for a human." He breathed in that scent again. Light and earthy, it called him to sample it on the air. Which he did with gusto.

"Nice to see you've loosened up enough to tease back." She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back and marveled at how this simple comfort entranced him. Made him feel warm all over.

"The booze helped, I think. Made me brave." He smiled down at her upturned face. "And a bit fuzzy."

"Oh, I bet you're plenty brave. You must be to do what you do."

"I have my moments, I guess. Lots of opportunities to dole out justice. Though, lately, I've been doing more chasing than catching."

"Oh?"

"I've been . . . on the hunt for a very long time now." Even in his alcohol-induced fog, Bau knew not to reveal too much to his lovely companion. "Every time I get close to catching them, they slip away. I dropped all my other cases to concentrate on this one, but closure just keeps eluding me. Hell, I don't even know their name or what they look like. Only that they're really good at what they do."

"They, whoever they are, sound very sneaky."

"Sly, even." Amused, he glanced back down at her round head. "Like a certain fox I know."

"Mmm. I think I'll take that as a compliment." Then she halted and pointed out a large boxlike shape in the gloom. "Oh, wow! A photobooth. I haven't seen one of those since I left Earth."

"Lots of Terran oddities are turning up in the wards now that the humans are a growing presence out in the 'verse." She pulled at him to follow. He indulged her and found himself sitting in a tiny box with her nearly in his lap. A black curtain shielded them from onlookers on the street.

Bau passed his hand over the screen to activate it and read the tiny letters that proclaimed prices for services exchanged. "It looks like it'll make ten holos per fifty-cred. With multiples at one cred per."

"Sweet. Ten for you and ten for me. Make a nice souvenir, don't you think?" She reached a finger out and pressed buttons, making selections with a few deft flicks. Then she snuggled up into his side, crowding him in a way that both alarmed and delighted. "Okay, now say 'cheese.'"

"Cheese?" The bright flash and whirr of the camera going off dazzled him.

"Perfect. Now, serious face." And so on. Holo after holo, he pulled faces at her command. He lost track of how many.

In an act of sheer impulsiveness, he pulled her hood back for one just as the booth snapped a pic. She exclaimed in dismay as she righted her cowl. Bau laughed so hard that he didn't even think to take a peek at her uncovered face. Only halting when lips crashed into his. Warm, wet lips that lit a fire in his body. A passion he didn't know he possessed raged through that one point of contact. He moaned, a throaty ululation that thrummed around in his chest cavity in time with his racing heart.

Distantly, he heard the booth beep, but he had no mind for it. Only the female pressed against him with her softness and sweet smell held his attention. All of it. With trembling hands, he cupped her face in both hands and poured all of what he felt through their kiss. The ardor, the _wonderment._ The hidden ache in his soul sang of this taste of the missing piece, the absent factor he'd always felt the lack of.

His lungs screamed of their need for air and he broke away with a gasp, heaving harsh and deep breaths in the dark booth. His companion seemed just as out of sorts, swollen and smudged lips parted in a rapid pant. They stared at each other across the tiny space between them. Bau's heart thudded painfully as she reached up with one slim hand and touched his cheek.

She whispered, meek and breathy, "I think it's finished."

A snort escaped him, then a chuckle, followed by a laugh. She picked it up as well and they laughed like loons there in that tiny box. Sometime during the riotous outpouring of mirth, they found themselves wrapped up in the other's embrace once again. When sense returned, Bau whispered back, "Jondum Bau. That's my name."

She gasped, sweet and high. "I knew you had a rebel's heart hidden under all that protocol."

He'd never felt so connected before to another soul. Gazing at her, he implored, "Tell me yours? I swear the gods of E-Dates shall never hear of this breach of contract."

Laughing, the woman in his arms squeezed him around the middle. "Kasumi. Kasumi Goto."

"Kasumi." He tasted her name on his tongue and found it lovely. As lovely as she. "I think I'm drunk."

"Don't you go blaming that kiss on booze. My lips still feel like they're on fire." Grabbing the sheet of holos, Kasumi threw back the curtain and, with a lithe little movement, leapt out onto the sidewalk. "Whew! I need some air."

Indeed, there was a burning where they'd touched. Everywhere they'd touched. Bau's whole body tingled in a way both unfamiliar and rapturous. Was this desire? This deep and compelling urge to run and yell and hold fast to her? Or something else? He let the cool cycled air of the station fan his face as he followed Kasumi wherever she wanted to take them.

They wandered, the odd couple, drawing curious stares where they happened to tread. They walked barefoot in the gardens and splashed in the fountains like children. Bau had never laughed so much in his life, never felt so glad to play the fool alongside Kasumi's contagious playfulness.

Sometime during their trek, Kasumi acquired a hat. By shape and fabric, it must have adorned a turian fringe. She put it on his head. He asked, "Where did you get this?"

But she merely laughed and led him further into the city. They found themselves back at the bar just as the digital sky began to lighten. They dove back into their cups, unwilling to quit the night just yet. Bau got well and truly sloshed in no time flat and rose to go home. "Listen, I gotta-gotta go. Got a l-lot of wuh . . . wuuuuh-"

"Woooork?" She stood with him, swaying on her feet just as much as he.

"Yeah, that . . . style of thing." He waved a hand to try to gesture what he meant.

"Wanna walk me home, sailor?" She bounced into him. He caught her before she fell. Running her hands along his arms, she mused, "Oooh, strong."

"Con-condensed muscle fibers. Plus, 'm aug-augmeh," he frowned as he forced the word out, "Augmented."

They walked arm-in-arm along the busy streets. Busy now with early morning traffic. All the good little citizens going to work. She pulled him from his drunken musings by saying, "Augmented? They do that for cops?"

"Only the best for Spectres. Gotta be able to do it all, ya know."

"You're a Spectre? Wow." She led him to a hotel. A nice one, upscale and all. The clerk gave them the ol' 'fucking perverts' look before returning to whatever thing that had captured his attention on his monitors.

They clambered into a lift. Kasumi hit the button for the eleventh floor. As it ambled upwards at its glacial pace, Bau wrapped his arms around Kasumi and mumbled, "Yeah, chasing pirates and mercs and thieves all over the cosmos, that's us. Though it's mostly me doing that last bit."

"Thieves?" she murmured into his chest.

"Yup, chasing the best. The smartest. The cunning-ing-est." The floor started to quiver and slide under his feet. "Holy shit, I'm drunk."

The doors opened on a hallway. Lucky for him, their destination lay only two doors down from the elevator. Kasumi turned at the portal and pulled him closer by his hips. Bau had to put his arms up on the door to keep from falling into her. Framed between them, she looked up at him with an inviting smile on those lips he longed to taste again. "Wanna come in?"

"I-I shouldn't." His body disagreed, pressing closer to feel her against him. "I don't, usually . . .. I mean, salarians and sex aren't usually words said in the same sentence."

"You seemed ready to go in the booth, if_ this_ is any indication." And she cupped him below, where a certain appendage stood at attention.

Bau warred with his own arousal. "I don't wanna go too fast and screw up this . . . whatever it is."

"Okay. But you can hardly stand. At least crash here tonight." She took him by the hand and pulled him into her room. "No hanky panky. I promise I won't take advantage of your inebriated-y-ness to have my wicked way with you."

He sat heavily at the end of her bed, sorting out his muzzy thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a fetish for salarian?"

She pushed him down flat and ushered him toward the headboard, where a pillow cradled his foggy head. Kasumi joined him, fully clothed, curling her body into his side. She lifted up and gave him one long sweet kiss that lingered for a while. "I think I might be developing one. I blame you."

"That's . . . nice." Wrapping an arm around her, he prepared for the black to overtake him. A thought surfaced just before oblivion struck.

'Cased', she said. Not 'inspected' or 'scrutinized', but 'cased.' Not a word most would use. It was a crime-word, that is, one used almost exclusively by criminals.

It was a _thief-_word.

* * *

The pinging of his omnitool woke him, ashy-mouthed and headache-y. Events of the night previous floated up in his mind as a disjointed, soupy mess. The only certainty that occurred to him was that there should be a warm body next to his on the too-comfortable bed. His venturing hand found only cold sheets, though, and that, at last, made him open his eyes.

The very vacant hotel room that greeted his first sight of the day struck him as very odd. Nothing of the woman that met him last night and showed him the best time of his life remained in this place. He called, though he knew she would not answer, "Kasumi?"

Nothing. That left him cold, with trepidation spearing his guts. He picked up his omnitool from the night stand and saw that the intermittent beeping signaled a comms from a trusted contact. One who'd tried to reach him several times, it seemed. "This is Bau."

"Spectre, you know how you told me to keep my ear to the ground in case the trail got hot again? Well," excitement made the asari's voice shrill as she exclaimed, "there was a break-in at the embassy not three hours ago. They took a painting. Same M.O., no vids, no traces. Just like last time."

"What sort of painting?" A premonition drew icy fingers up his spine. And his mouth went bone-dry as the answer came to confirm it as fact.

"A 'Degas', it says here."

An all-consuming rage tried to drown him then. Only by sheer willpower and discipline did he not give in to it and destroy everything in sight. She played him. And like an idiot, he fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. All her sweet words came back to him, soured by venomous self-repudiation. Had she known all along? Of course, she did. She had to have.

How could he ever believe anyone would be interested in him for _him?_

She used him. Made him complacent and took him out of the picture without so much as a single drop of blood spilled. Kindness? Or humiliation? The latter, definitely. How it burned in him like a gullet-full of thresher maw acid.

Bau almost ripped off his omnitool to smash it against a wall when he noticed something that sparked the outrage all over again. She'd been at his files. All his encryptions undone. All his carefully garnered information laid bare and fondled by that dirty thief. Under his incredulous and furious eye, data scrolled, highlighted in places where Kasumi must have perused more thoroughly.

How she must have laughed at his pitiful attempts to capture her. How those lips must have bowed and flexed in endless mirth while he lay on her bed unconscious.

It made him want to tear his own prongs off.

A short search told him she'd scrubbed every trace of her presence off the station while he'd slept. From the bar's security vids to her hotel registration. In fact, a search for a 'Kasumi Goto' turned up nothing but air. She didn't even exist. Was it an alias?

Looking through his files for alterations or deleted data, he started to notice a pattern to the highlighted areas. Some glowed red, others blue. And interspersed, a deep and vibrant purple. That made him wonder until he found at the very bottom of the very last entry . . . a key. Two names, written in two colors. 'Keiji Ofuda' in crimson. And 'Kasumi Goto' in blue.

The realization struck him like lightning. _Two_ thieves, working in tandem. Some jobs only took one or the other, but for the really big scores, two meant twice the probability of success.

Wait. She said she'd just lost someone. Could she have meant this 'Keiji?' That could explain the long hiatus between thefts. It could have been a mourning period.

But why would she give him such crucial information? Especially when she knew he was hunting her? Like an answer to his prayer, his omnitool beeped. Somehow, he knew who lay on the other end of the call. He answered, "This is Bau."

A long pause before she said, "I didn't know."

"How do you expect me to believe that?"

"I don't. But it's true. I didn't know until you said you were a Spectre chasing a thief. Then I got curious."

"Then you went digging through my files."

"Yes."

He sighed, deep and full of bitterness.

She whispered, "What now?"

"Now, I do what I've been doing. Chase you. Eventually catch you."

"Then what?"

"I won't be merciful." As implacable as he wanted to sound, he couldn't resist adding, "Probably won't be merciful."

She chuckled, a dry leaf sound. "I had fun, you know. And I know you did, too."

"I . . . did."

"Maybe . . . we can do it again sometime."

"Unlikely."

"A girl can dream, can't she?" The memory of her smile teased him. Was she smiling right now? Indubitably.

He laughed, soft, but sincere. "We'll see."

"Goodbye, Jondum Bau."

"Goodbye, Kasumi Goto." The line went dead.

Next to his boots, which she must have taken off for him last night, he found a single strip of holos. Looking at them, warmth spread throughout his chest. Second to last, her naked face, human, but still attractive looked back at him. Her mouth, shaped into an 'o' of permanent surprise, made his own mouth stretch into a grin. And that last pic . . .. He imagined he could still taste her on his lips. A delicious shudder ran along his spine.

Though he cursed fate, somewhere in his heart of hearts, he felt a spark of joy that there existed someone with whom he'd shared such a profound connection.

It made the lonely ache just that much easier to bear.


End file.
